In my younger days, before children, I wrote regularly in journals, not for anyone but myself. It was cathartic. In 2007, this blog was started as a record of my life for my children. Having no family history, it was important to … Write. Things. Down.
This blog would eventually bloom, wither, and spread its seeds. A seed at the Lost Daughters. A seed to a media campaign. A seed to a young adult group. Some of these seeds became appearances at various conferences … KAAN (Korean Adoptee and Family Network), AAC (American Adoption Congress), and YWCA Racial Justice Summit.
Eventually, that chapter of my life would end with our move to Seoul. Finding myself in my original home and culture left me wanting more. I wanted to be Korean, despite spending more than 45 years pushing that identity away.
Each year, I would return to visit with friends and to claim more of my culture. Then the world stopped in 2020, and my trips to Korea abruptly halted. Not only would I realize that I could pass away without claiming my place in my home country, but 2021 would reveal the hatred of my adopted country.
Mortality. It’s often linked to a faith. My adopted faith was Christianity, like many adoptees. The more I researched my culture and history, the more I doubted that adopted faith.
Today, I find comfort in K-dramas that address the afterlife and reincarnation. I long to believe that I will have a second chance to meet my first family in my next life.
Recently, the “Bless Yer Lil’ Ol’ Heart” podcast was revived and now has its first season on Faith and Adoption. Most episodes are short and paint the picture of faith in a small, Appalachian town.
Future episodes will include references to several K-dramas that address the afterlife as seen by Koreans.
